Hearbreaker
by Kopawapatezi
Summary: James Bond of the SIS is sent to the Bahamas after the shady and mysterious arms dealer, only know as Salamander. With not even the slightest clue to go on he must rely on pure instinct.
1. Rude Awakening

This is the first part of Heartbreaker. There have been slight changes to the story. Rio De Janeiro has been changed to Port Au Prince.

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**HEARTBREAKER : RUDE AWAKNING**

Waking up in a hotel room's tub with blood dripping down your forehead is not the best way to wake up on a Wednesday morning. That was one hell of Tuesday.

Bond tried to stand himself up, his legs buckling and every muscle in his body ached. Looking through the bathroom door he a saw a man, his back to the door frame. Tall and stocky bond knew he couldn't best him in combat in his condition. Fiddling around the bathroom, silently he found a pair of tweezers, 'better than nothing' he thought.

Pinching the tweezers together he crept out. Sneaking up behind the man, seemingly oblivious to Bond's awakening. Like a viper he crept up, not making a sound. He struck, aiming at the jugular, stopping mid way at the sound of the click of a revolver. Bond dropped the tweezers, walking backwards with his arms in the air.

A man in a tuxedo, a fine one, well tailored too and a gas mask, an old Russian one. With his revolver he gestured for Bond to go against the wall. The man guarding the bathroom didn't budge, he just stood strong and alert.

The masked man lowered the gun taking it's aim off of Bond. Mistake one, wham Bond made a quick move at him, kicking his hand hard sending the gun right from his grip and across the ground. The larger man jumped for Bond, but missed as he ducked hard on the ground and grabbed for the Colt Single Action Army. Luck was on Bond's side as he grabbed it by the cold barrel and used the gun like a hammer to slam the large man in the temple.

The man eased, and Bond had a chance to shoot him in the Stomach. The masked man, still grabbing his aching hand in pain. Was soon put into shock, as he stared down the barrel of Bond's new gun. He thought he was about to sent into a vigorous Q and A session and ran backwards, propelling himself from the hotel room window. Maybe out of fear of what Salamander would do to him, if he answered questions.

Bond quickly ran to the window, broken class crunching underneath his wing tip shoes. Feeling a bit nausea seeing the mangled body of the unknown assailant he fled out of the room. In shock to see the room he had stayed in prior to the attack was right across the hall. The door was hanging on it's hinges. The room behind it, torn apart as if a search had taken place.

In act of common sense, he headed down the lobby, send a ring in to M in London.

"M, let's pull the plug in Nassau. Can you arrange me a flight to Port au Prince as soon as possible?" he spoke quietly. Looking over his shoulder, with the buzz of M's response.

The simple reply of "Yes immediately, but why?" brought back the foggy memory of the night before.

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Okay, I messed up big time. When I wrote this, I concocted an idea while I wrote it. Too lazy to fix it, I just continued writing, now a large portion of this fanfic becomes a flashback to the night before. I'm aware that was dumbass move.


	2. The Strange One

Just a heads up this chapter and the ones after are prequels to the one before, which explains what happened to Bond before being knocked out. This is also where I may have drifted out of character, which is something I am paranoid about. The story after this will be the next part the Salamander series by me.

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**HEARTBREAKER:THE STRANGE ONE  
**

You know what's gorgeous? Paradise Island in the cool winter of the Caribbean. It's peaceful, that's how it should be.

Not very peaceful in the eyes of 007, agent of her majesty's secret service. Stationed in the Bahamas on the case after a multibillionaire arms trader, goes by the name of Salamander. No one knows much about him, or what he even looks like. So Bond didn't have much to go on.

As the sun began to set, giving the island's sea a nice orange glow. With the sound of Junkanoo music in the background, Bond settled in a small Baccarat table, wearing a pair of nice black dress pants and a white dinner jacket.

Lighting a smoke one of his opponents in the game left, with a new one replacing him. Quite a large man, Bond guessed he was a little less 300 pounds. Maybe around 5'4 in height. His skin was a dark tan color, his dark brown almost black eyes set under black jungles he called eyebrows. His hair dark gray, in a comb over set on top of his round head. Bond figured he was Latin, maybe Cuban. His nose was large, right under it was a bushy handle bar style mustache, with a dark stubble covering the rest of the lower half of his face. Strangely for a man of the time, his small ears were priced, with large diamond stubs. Dressed in a fine white Italian suit, with a red tie and red handkerchief tucked into the front pocket, Bond thought he was man of wealth, and a man he should talk to about Salamander.

The game table got Smokey, with several opponents lighting cigarettes and the new contestant's Cuban cigars. Bond peered over the table at him, the man gave him a stiff hard glare back. Bond grunted under the chatter of the table, putting out his cigarette. With a sly smile he would try to force conversation on to him, "Those are fantastic diamonds, they for a lady friend of yours?" he began as his cards got dealt to him, "Did you decide to wear to make sure they, weren't to heavy for her?" Bond ended with a chuckle. The man was silent, with an almost angry look on his face, before be began to laugh.

This man's laugh was almost like a light cough. When laughing, bond noticed his gold watch around his left wrist, and the gold rings decorated with amazing jewels. The laugh stops suddenly, with the man's blank gaze at Bond. Taping the baccarat table with the ring of his index finger, he bet high against Bond.

Unfortunately bond lost the little game of Baccarat to this stranger. Though that wasn't his main concern, as the man left the table, Bond followed him. Stopping him casually, "Great game you played you there." he said as it became apparent that this man on his way to a bar along the beach. 'Great' thought Bond. As the man sat, he turned back to Bond with a dull look in his eyes. He seemed to smile a bit, "Thank you, but, lady luck was just on my side." he said in a light accent.

Bond nodded, saying "Indeed." under his breath as he approached the bar. Looking over at the bartender, he asked for a martini, "Shaken, not stirred." The man smiled, rather darkly, "By any rate it was a good game." he said in his raspy old islander voice. The man grabbed his tequila as the barkeep slid it over the bar. Looking over at bond he asked, "So, what do they call ya?" he asked before taking the first shot of his drink. Bond smiled, "Bond, James Bond, and you?" he said starting a period of awkward silence.

The man stood, and loosened his tie. Looking back at Bond, with a sly smile, "Just call me Sal." he said nodding.

Sal, easy to put two and two together, he wasn't fooling anyone. Bond's suspicions were correct, this was Salamander. Question one, was answered, most likely that is. Next was find out why he was in the Bahamas.

As he was in thought, "Sal" bid farewell and headed back to his room. Bond sighed, he would get to the bottom of this in the morning. Before he could finish that thought. A woman would take the bar stool next to his.

A gorgeous Latina, perfectly sculpted figure. Her light tan skin, glowed in the light of the moon, as it set in place just over the horizon. Her dark brown hair like silk had a certain shine, long, with a single curled bang over her left smoky hazel eye. Dressed in a nice black cocktail dress and nice black high heels. The lady ordered a scotch, when trying to light a cigarette, she sighed, her lighter was with out fuel. Bond surprised her, as he swooped in and lit her cigarette with his lighter.

She smiled before taking a puff of her cigarette. With a light breath out, the smoke escaped from her lips, painted like roses. Taking her gaze away from Bond she took a sip of her drink. Bond was dazzled by this woman, though he saw her as a possible connection to "Sal"amander. Though as the thought occurred, but he thought it best to ignore it, maybe he could squeeze some information out of her, some that could prove that Sal was Salamander. Looking back up, he saw her gaze, the same hypnotizing gaze that he known to well.

"Hello, Mister." She said in voice that nearly sounded like a light sigh, putting her well manicured hand out for Bond to take. Which he gladly did, "I'm Sarah Guevara, I was sent by the CIA to meet you Mr.Bond." she replied as she pulled hand away in a snap. With a sly smile she chuckled, "Any information on Salamader?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Bond chuckled, "Perhaps we can discuss this over dinner, Ms.Guevara?" he replied getting up from the barstool, and giving her a slight gentleman's bow. She smiled, "Perhaps, though don't try anything funny. 'Felix gave me a heads up about you." Sarah replied, before taking a long drag from her cigarette.

They would head over to Bimini Road, a nice little restaurant. Bond knew it was business, though be believed they both sought pleasure on this business "date" of theirs.


	3. Full House

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The following chapter has been revamped, the end of this chapter has been edited.

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**HEARTBREAKER: FULL HOUSE**

In the light chatter of the Bimini Road restaurant, Sarah would try to find out what Bond had found out, about the slippery Salamander. Discussed over a feast of Caribbean delicacies.

Bond took a sip of his drink and peered across the table at Sarah. Sarah, whom was mildly frustrated would begin the conversation. Setting her fork delicately down on her plate, she would glare into Bond's cold blue-gray eyes. "Tell me, did you out anything." she asked with frustration apparent in her voice. Bond used his napkin to wipe his mouth, "I was having difficultly finding him, I think I may have stumbled onto him." Bond began taking a sip of his drink. As he set it down he would continued, "He called himself Sal, he beat me at Baccarat, quite a large man and I believe him to be Cuban." he finished, though it wasn't much information.

Sarah had a blank look on her face. She sighed, a long drawn out sigh, "I had heard great things about you. I see this as a disappointment, surely James Bond could have found out more." the lady questioned, raising an eyebrow. Bond continued to sip his drink, saying nothing, "They call him Salamander for a reason, ." he replied in response to Sarah. "But I trust disappointment will subside once-" he began stopping as the restaurant doors swung open.

"Speak of the devil, here's Salamander." Bond uttered under his breath. As Sal and another entered the restaurant. This other seemed to be an friend of Sal, was a tall man another Latino, dressed in a beige Italian unbuttoned suit which hung open showing the red dress shirt underneath. This new man resembled a younger thinner Sal, maybe his son. He also appeared to be Sal's bodyguard, looking like a man who spent much time in the gym. Bond guessed he was in his late thirties, by his short wavy jet black hair with only a strand or two grayed. His hands were covered in white gold rings, with a diamond or two. Bond saw the sparkle of the same diamond earrings of Sal's in his ears lobes also.

They were seated in at the table next to Bond and Sarah's. Bond smiled, "Well, if you're so quick to insult, why don't you introduce yourself to Mr.Salamander, he's the fat one." Bond told Sarah as he pointed over at the table next to him. Sarah smiled, "Sal Gonzalez…" she muttered lightly under her breath. As Sal would head over to the table with his friend. "Eh, Mr.Bond. Glad to see I didn't clean you out." Sal said as his greeting. Bond tried to crack a smile, "Can't say I'm disappointed that you didn't." he answered, before lighting a cigarette to go along with dinner. "Join us won't you?" Sarah offered , though Bond regretting it about an hour or two of pointless conversation.

As they said their good byes and set off to their hotel at about three in the morning. Sarah stopped Bond in the lobby, "This case is going nowhere, perhaps we should discuss this later, in my room. 347.", she demanded in an obvious here and Bond would be a fool to ignore this, either way. As they parted temporally Bond was rather surprised, to have run into Felix in the lobby. Bond was both glad and confused to meet him, but this confusion was dropped with his greeting "The CIA thought you would need some help, James."  
This made it obvious that Ms.Guevara wasn't who she said she was. Though, he wound's dismiss her right away. Bond looked at Felix with a rather quizzical look, "What of Sarah Guevara?" he asked, grouping Sarah into Salamander's "army" now. Felix's look beat Bond's in both shock and confusion, simply saying "Who?", Bond sighed, "An actress, and a good one at that." he replied in a half serious manner. His look growing serious now, "Felix, I think I got Salamander. In a few hours go to room 347." Bond whispered in a rush before heading to stares in a hurry.

Felix looked over his shoulder at James who ran off in a hurry, this was good news and he was about to head over to his room and send a call to Washington. Maybe after he checks out the room bond recommend.

Bond rushed to the room, knocking on the door. Hearing Sarah's chuckle slyly, as she headed over to the door. Bond was hoping there was no one else in there, ready to strike, he was ready either way, but he preferred the tender approach to get the answers he wanted from Sarah. But did she have the same thing in mind?

That question would be answered when Sarah slowly opened the door, only to half way, but Bond was able to see her nearly bare shoulder, with only a thin black strap gently set near the edge, about to slide off. Grinning ear to ear she quickly grabbed Bond by his tie, "Good morning James." she whispered loosening her grip on his tie and letting him in the hotel room, the door slamming shut after him. Dressed in only black laced underwear she headed over to the bed, laying on her side and stroking the cream colored comforter, as a gesture for Bond to climb next to her, "Lets talk about Salamander later, first you have to fulfill your promise from before, impress me." Sarah beckoned in a sexy sounding tone.  
"Perhaps." Bond said as he would begin to loosen his tie. Then he would feel a hard hit against his back, letting his guard down for a second, what a big mistake. He hit the ground, looking up to see Salamader's friend from just a half and hour ago. The man smiled showing gold teeth scattered around his mouth, in-between stained yellow. He chuckled, with a voice and accent unfitting to his appearance "Looky wha' we gots ere'. A poiviot'" he began kneeling down and grabbing bond hard in the back of the neck. The man looked up to Sarah, "Good Job on luring him here, Newt." he said with a snicker. Bond grunted as he struggled to get up, "Thank you Toad." Sarah replied getting up from the bed and heading over to Bond.

The hotel room swung open, Sal entered along with two men in tuxedo's, both putting on gas mask after shutting the door. Sal laughed, "Hello again Mr.Bond. You really can't be the best that the British Government can dish out!" the old rusty bastard barked in a tone of glee as he entered. Kneeling over to Bond, pushing the other out of the way calling him "Manuel" under his breath. Sal continued to smile, with a dark look in his eyes.  
Sal, glaring at Bond folded his arms resting his right elbow on his one elevated knee. Snickering he stood up again, heading over to the hotel window, "Toad, take care of him for the mean time." Sal commanded Manuel to constrict Bond, to make sure he didn't try anything. With a sigh Sal opened the blinds, looking into the serine night ocean view. For a moment Sal turned away looking back at Bond, "James, James, James…" he muttered in a disappointed tone.

Bond still struggling managed to lift his head, "Quite an interesting act you all put on, but what are you trying to hide, running drugs and guns to Nicaragua? I'm afraid you're a couple years too late." Bond taunted, only to be pushed by a strike to the head by Manuel. Sal rose his fist into the air and struck it down on the bed side table, "No, don't act like a smartass." Sal whispered approaching Bond. His eyes widening. Bond grinded his teeth with the approaching footsteps, "Perhaps I should talk slower?" Bond asked the man almost mocking him. Sal laughed, narrowing his eyes at Bond, he slammed his foot down between his eyes, the heel of his foot nearly breaking Bond's nose. Bond lowered his head as he winced, but Salamander kept talking, most likely thinking that Bond was knocked out. Though perhaps he would be knocked out soon, as everything began to get woozy. The only thing he was able to pick up was something along the lines of,

"Gerald Callaghan will meet us in Haiti, we need to talk to him about the shipment."

In a hustle, Felix arrived at room 347, knocking on the door. After a few minutes he would begin to worry a bit. Calling a member of the hotel staff to open the door, Bond was gone but he saw that there was blood on the ground. Quickly he called Washington, as things were beginning to look their worst. One Brit was missing and possibly dead, the only one who knew even a little bit about the mysterious Salamander.


End file.
